


Keep Me Safe (I'm Going Down In Flames)

by Tahlruil



Series: Loving You Is Easy (It's Life That's Hard) [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, First Time Gone Wrong, How Do I Tag, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt Tony Stark, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I promise, I'm Sorry, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Second Chapter Will be Fluff, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Has Issues, Steve Rogers-centric, Tony Stark Feels, mostly angst, omg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-01 11:53:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10921281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tahlruil/pseuds/Tahlruil
Summary: Firsts can be scary, and for Steve Rogers they usually do not end well. So he'd like to get this really important first over and done with, even if he maybe isn't exactly ready. He's mostly ready, and he does want it to happen, and he loves Tony so it'll be fine... won't it?For the 'first time' prompt.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ****POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING THAT I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO TAG****  
>  Steve pushes his own boundaries pretty hard and fast here, without regard for the consequences, and puts Tony in very uncomfortable position. If you think that could be an issue and need/want more before reading, fast forward to the ending notes, kay? I felt kinda hinky while/after writing it, so make sure you take care of you please. <3 If after reading anyone knows how to actually tag this, I would super appreciate it if you let me know what that is. Thanks!
> 
> OMFG. This was supposed to be fluff, dammit, and then... then this happened? And it sort of makes sense I think to Steve's character, but it also felt really personal, and now I'm all 'blaaargh', but I swear this chapter ends on a positive, hopeful note and I'm gonna do a second chapter that is ALL FLUFF because I love this 'verse and I cannot believe I DID THIS. OMG.
> 
> Comments please? Yell at me for doing this to my poor boys? T_T

When tiny Steven Grant Rogers – newborn and premature – tried to take his first breath it didn’t go very well. That set the tone for his life, because ‘firsts’ of any kind for him were almost always a disaster. Like his first step, which sent him tumbling down a hill and earned him a nasty scar from a rock on his left knee. The first time he’d tried to make a friend he got a black eye for his trouble… but he _also_ ended up with Bucky Barnes, so at least it hadn’t been a total loss.

The first time he tried to kiss a girl, she politely said ‘no thank you’ and asked if he’d put in a good word for her with Buck. The first time he managed to _actually_ kiss a girl (thanks to a game of Truth or Dare), she wiped her mouth after and shrugged while making a face when her friends asked how it was. The first time he kissed a girl and it wasn’t awful, Peggy told him immediately after that she was going back to England in a month. The first time he kissed a _boy_ , he got called a ‘fag’ by someone who’d seen and ended up in a fight that earned him a broken hand, two fractured ribs and one hell of a lecture from Bucky.

The first time he was hospitalized with pneumonia, Steve caught a staph infection that almost killed him. The first (and last) time he’d driven a car, _he’d_ accidentally killed a cat. The first time he got accepted to college, his mother died three weeks before class was supposed to start. His first job was also the first time he got fired, and the first time he had a piece featured in an art exhibition the opening party was interrupted by a phone call that let him know Bucky was MIA and presumed dead.

Even firsts with Tony had often been rocky. The first time he tried to talk to the man, he spilled hot coffee all over his portfolio. The first time their eyes actually met (when Tony’d finally taken off his sunglasses) Steve tripped over his own feet and almost gave himself a concussion – he’d missed cracking his head on the edge of a table by maybe an inch. The first compliment he gave Tony made the beautiful genius run away and stop talking back for a good month and a half, though at least he kept smiling when Steve spoke to him. Their first ‘date-date’ was a complete catastrophe of which they did not speak.

So yeah – firsts for Steve Rogers were almost never a good thing. With that kind of track record, he didn’t think anyone could blame him for being a little terrified to have sex for the first time. The list of things that could go wrong was pretty endless, and even if the _sex_ part started well, something else would happen that ruined it. Hell, he’d probably bring about Armageddon if he tried.

Didn’t mean he didn’t think about it though. Thinking about sex with Tony Stark especially was taking up increasing space in the back of his mind. Whenever he and his left hand took a little ‘private time’, he imagined all the ways it could go _right_ between them. The rest of the time? The rest of the time he could only dread the ways it would probably turn into a disaster. Tony was so great about it all, never pushing or making him feel guilty when he needed them to stop in the middle of a heavy make-out session. The complete lack of pressure was nice… but it also made him feel just a teensy bit awful. He really did love Tony, after all, and wanted to share everything with him. So the fact that he was still so scared and it still felt so difficult to even think about actually doing it made him feel like something was _wrong_ with him.

Tony vehemently maintained that there wasn’t. He was insistent that even if Steve never wanted to have sex that would be absolutely fine. But Steve _did_ want to have sex. He was just… a little apprehensive.

Maybe he’d just built it up too much in his head. Maybe he’d given ‘firsts’ too much power in his life, and maybe he was overthinking this. Maybe he needed to just seize the day and hope for the best.

Yeah. He’d seize the day and go for it. Surely Tony’s experience would get them through it just fine. He’d bite the bullet and get this ‘first’ over with.

He could just get it over with, and then things would be fine.

~.~.~

“Steve. Babe. This is the best thing you’ve ever cooked. Don’t get me wrong, I love all your food, but this is really, really good.” It was steak and potatoes – Bucky had assured him that it was hard to go wrong with steak and potatoes. Surprisingly he was right, and even Steve was kind of impressed with how it had turned out. Tony was acting like he’d just flown the first manned mission to Mars, so most people would at least find the dish edible if not anything spectacular.

Good. That was great. That would make the rest of this easier He hoped the wine he’d paired with dinner would help him loosen up a little too. Sure, he could only really have one glass – any more and… ‘things’ might not work. He was a lightweight and he knew it, but at least he was a cheap date at a bar.

“Thanks Tony – I’m glad you like it. Buck showed me how to do it right.” Okay, no more best friend talk. Best friend talk was _not_ sexy, and he needed to be sexy here.

“Huh. The Buckster must be a decent cook then – I wouldn’t have expected it from him. Seems like the kind of guy who just throws shit in the microwave, you know? I mean, he’s great, don’t get me wrong, but nothing about him screams ‘I can cook’. Well, maybe that man bun thing he does. Do you think I could pull one of those off?”

Normally, Steve would have found Tony’s happy-babble endearing and funny. With nervous energy bubbling under his skin, it was making him feel just a little anxious. The wine was starting to kick in, thankfully, and the floaty feeling in his head was distracting him from the way his stomach was flopping around like a dying fish. Swallowing hard, he reached for the bottle and poured himself another half a glass as he answered Tony – a little more floaty and a little less floppy couldn’t hurt.

“Bucky can’t cook much to be honest. He’s a meat and potatoes kinda guy.”

“Steve, babe…” Tony was watching his wine glass with a small frown, which nooooo. That was not in the sexy plans! “Are you okay? I’m supposed to be the drinker in this house, not you.”

“It’s a glass and a half, Tony.”

“Which is a glass more than you usually have, and that’s usually broken up by many, many sips of water.” His boyfriend was way too observant, which could ruin everything if he didn’t get his shit together. He just needed to act normal.

“It’s good wine is all. An’ I don’t have any deadlines or anything coming up soon, ‘n I thought mebbe we could do a lazy day tomorrow. So I can have a little more wine than usual, right? Not gonna ruin anything if I end up with a bit of a hangover.” Oooh, good save. Yeah, he could definitely do this.

Take that, floppy stomach.

“If you say so,” Tony murmured, not looking entirely convinced.

“I do. Now about the man bun – I don’t know that you’d be patient enough sweetheart. It’d take quite a while for your hair to be long enough, y’see.” The very thought made him laugh, or giggle anyway, because yeah. Tony’d get frustrated when his hair wasn’t long enough a month in to the process and chop it all off on a whim.

“I wish I could say you’re wrong, but yeah. Maybe a wig? Definitely a wig. I’m gonna get me a wig long enough to put into a bun so I can see if I can pull it off. Will Buck-a-boo style it for me, you think?”

That set off another round of giggling, and Tony seemed to relax. There was no more tiny, concerned frown and no more suspicious eyebrows. He was smiling and laughing, and they were having a good time. By the time dinner was over, Tony’d cleaned his plate like he always did when Steve cooked. Half of his own dinner was left untouched which was far from usual… but he distracted Tony from that by bringing up potential cat ownership. He maybe even agreed to getting a cat? That part was a little fuzzy, just like his head.

Fuzzy and floaty, actually, enough to drown out the way his stomach was now tying itself into knots. Mostly, anyway. He mostly didn’t notice the way his fingers were trembling either.

The fun followed them onto the sofa in the living room, where Steve straddled Tony’s lap so they could be facing each other, then wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s neck. His fingers stopped trembling when he used them to grip the back of Tony’s shirt, so that was nice – good even. There was a slightly uncertain look in the brown eyes he loved so much… but he figured once things got going Tony’d get into it.

He just had to get this over with.

Once the first time was done, he wouldn’t be so freaked out. Second times were _always_ better for Steve, so he just needed this time to be out of the way. He just needed to buck up and soldier through it. It would be fine.

 _He_ would be fine.

Kissing Tony had never been scary, so Steve started there. Usually the genius was the ‘aggressor’ in any kiss they shared (because holy hell did he know what he was doing), but this time he took that role for himself. Thrusting his tongue forward, he invaded Tony’s mouth – a task that was made a little difficult by his boyfriend’s briefly unyielding lips. He resorted to using the same tricks Tony did to get his knees to go weak, though his execution was probably a bit lackluster as he curled his tongue around the other man’s before exploring his mouth. Just as he’d thought, after a couple seconds of adjustment time, Tony began to respond and even took hold of his hips. He was happy about that, he really was, even if he felt the tremor in his fingers start up again once it happened. That didn’t matter, nope, or the twisting in his stomach or the way his heart was starting to pound erratically and not in a good way. Nope. He just had to get through this so the first time would be over.

So when Tony broke the kiss wearing that small frown again, Steve refused to let that make him pause or even slow down on the way to achieving his objective. Sure he’d prefer to be kissing during all this, because if they were kissing he wouldn’t have to really be thinking about the other stuff. But this was fine too. He was fine. To prove it, he trailed his lips down Tony’s jaw, then moved to his neck. He meant to nibble or like or tease somehow, but instead he ended up just resting there, breathing the man in. His scent was comforting and might help ease some of his nerves. This was fine, and it was _Tony_ , so he was okay.

“Hey, Steve… are yo- whoah!” While his boyfriend interrupted sexy time with stupid words, Steve had gone for the genius’ belt. Unfortunately, his fingers had yet to get fully on board with his plan, and he couldn’t get the damned thing unbuckled. He only had to fight with it for a few seconds before Tony’s hands came to rest over his own – Tony’s hands were always steady and sure, so he’d get that belt undone with ease. The sound he made was _definitely_ a relieved giggle, not a tiny, nervous sob, so he didn’t know why Tony was suddenly making soothing noises against his temple and carding one hand through his hair.

“Hey… hey. Steve, you don’t have to… we don’t have to do this babe.”

“I _want_ to,” he answered, feeling a blush crawl over his face, ears and neck. Embarrassment was fighting with outright shame to be his predominant emotion, but anger was quickly starting to make its way into the mix. “Don’t _you_ want to?” And _shit_ , this could be his worst fear come true. Maybe Tony didn’t really want him at all, because he was so small and bony and awful looking. No wonder Tony had never pressured him for sex. God, he was such a fucking idiot.

“When you’re drunk and so keyed up you can’t stop shaking? No, sorry. I like enthusiastic and sober consent babe, because there were too many times when _mine_ was taken for granted.” Because Tony’d had _lots_ of sex. He’d have sex with anyone, pretty much, if all the stories were true. Anyone who wasn’t Steve, anyway.

“Tony, I’m fine. Just a little nervous, because, ya know – virgin. But it’s fine. So just-” Making a noise of frustration, he grabbed hold of both Tony’s hands and put them on his own ass. That was fine – good, great even – and he was shivering in pleasure to prove it.

Tony, the stupid genius, clearly wasn’t seeing this the right way.

He yanked his hands back and held them up in the air like he was being arrested, eyes wide and face looking maybe a little pale. “Okay, **no**. That is not nerves, that is _fear_. I am safe wording out.”

“We don’t have safe words, _Tony_. We don’t need them because you won’t have sex with me.” Steve knew he was starting to get a little loud, but he was embarrassed and _angry_ , dammit. Why wouldn’t Tony just do this for him?

“Well then my safe word is ‘prickly pear’. Prickly fucking pear, Steve. We aren’t having sex because you aren’t ready. It has nothing to do with me not wanting to, or… or not being attracted to you, or whatever your drunk brain is telling you-”

“I am _**not**_ drunk-” Tony didn’t acknowledge his attempted interruption at all except to talk a little louder, eyes flashing.

“Because you are beautiful and sexy and I do want you, very much. But you said you weren’t ready and that’s fine. I don’t mind waiting and taking it slow. We don’t need to dive right into the deep end, babe, because you are freaking out and you had to _drink_ to do this much and our clothes aren’t even off, so no. Prickly pear.”

“I wasn’t ready, Tony, you’re right,” Steve tried, doing his best to rein in his temper and seem rational. He wanted this first _over_ , so he had to convince his boyfriend. “But I am now, honest. This is me consenting with enthusiasm.” His hands went for Tony’s belt again, which was when the man finally moved his again… but it was only to take hold of Steve’s wrists to stop him as he shook his head.

“Well then _I’m_ not. I’m not ready and I safe worded out. You can’t ignore a safe word.”

“Tony!” All the anger and nervousness and yeah, okay, fear he’d been feeling boiled over, burning inside his veins. He found himself exploding off his boyfriend’s lap so he could start to pace, running his hands through his hair – yanking the strands, more like, in his agitated state – and wondering what was so wrong with him that Tony wouldn’t just help him get this over with.

“Steve, babe, calm down please-”

“Don’t tell me to calm down! I’m allowed to be upset about this! I love you and I _want_ to have sex with you, okay? First times are just not my thing, so I thought ‘hey, Tony will help me get that shit over with’ but you _**won’t**_ and I don’t understand _why_!”

“Because you’ve been drinking, an-”

“I wanted this before I started drinking! That’s _why_ I had the wine, so I could loosen up enough to get this over with.”

“I don’t want our first time to be something we do just to get it out of the way, Steve! Fuck. I love you, and I thought… I always thought it wouldn’t be fucking or even just sex, but making love. I don’t want to do it just to… I don’t know, check it off some fucking list or something. I don’t want to have to lie back and think of England while you probably won’t even get hard because you’re so fucking scared that you’re shaking and _drinking_ to cope with it.”

That brought Steve up short for a second, because _what_? “I… thought I’d be the one, uh, lying back and thinking of England?”

Tony threw his hands into the air, jaw working like he was holding in a whole bunch of anger so the situation didn’t escalate. “That was _literally_ the least important thing I just said, but no. I _know_ I like bottoming, but you might not. I figured that for the first time we’d do it that way, and then later – when you’re ready – we could see if it’s something you’d enjoy. You might not – not everyone does, and it’d be a lot more pressure on you, and I wouldn’t want you to feel like you had to _pretend_ to like it when I know I enjoy it just fine and I’d love it with you. But again – least important thing I’m trying to tell you Steve. All the way at the end of the fucking list. I’d be bottoming though.”

Then I REALLY don’t understand what the issue here is Tony! If I’ll be o-on top, then… then-”

“Jesus fuck. Einstein give me strength. It’s still _sex_ Steve, and you can hardly even talk about it! And like I said, it shouldn’t be something we do just to get it over with, dammit. Did you _really_ think that if you jumped me I’d just ignore how uncomfortable you were and go for it?” Silence, and then Tony’s eyes went wide and hurt at whatever he saw in Steve’s face. “Holy shit,” he whispered, voice suddenly hoarse. “You did. You thought I’d… Fucking _fuck_ Steve.” Now Tony was on his feet pacing, rubbing his hands over his face and looking just a little destroyed.

Steve refused to feel guilty about it though, because Tony should just be able to do this for him. It was what he wanted, so there shouldn’t be an issue in his opinion. Who cared if he was a little shaky? He was _fine_.

“I… I need to… shit. Steve, I can’t… I gotta go. I’ll be down in the workshop if there’s an emergency or you really need something, but I… I can’t have this conversation with you right now. Maybe you aren’t _drunk_ -drunk, but you’re tipsy enough that… no. And I’m freaking out because you thought I’d just… I gotta… we’ll talk in the morning, alright? I love you, but I gotta not be here right now.”

Hurt and anger and **shame** and a little too much wine formed a potent, deadly cocktail that went straight to his head. Steve opened his mouth, and what came out was the _stupidest_ , most _hurtful_ thing he could probably have said in that moment. “ **Fine**. Go. If you won’t do this for me, maybe I’ll go out to a bar and find someone who _**will**_.”

Tony, who’d been headed to the elevator, froze. For a long, terrible minute all he could hear was the pounding of his own heart and the echo of the words that had left his mouth, and his blood went cold. He couldn’t believe he’d just _said_ that, couldn’t believe he’d hurt _Tony_ that way, and he felt moisture gathering fast and thick in his eyes.

It seemed he wasn’t the only one, because when Tony slowly – so goddamned slowly – turned to face him, there were already tear tracks marking his cheeks and more were on the way. “If that’s what you really want-” His voice broke and he looked away, jaw working again as he cleared his throat.

“Tony, I…”

“If it’s what you really want… then fine. But call yourself a cab, because Happy sure as fuck isn’t driving you and I won’t force Jay to make that call either.”

Before Steve could gather his wits enough to respond, Tony was gone. Tony was _gone_ , and he was so _stupid_ , and he might have just thrown _everything_ away in a fit of temper. The penthouse was silent as a tomb… at least until one long, wet inhale finally made him start to sob. The strength left his legs and he wasn’t surprised to find himself on the floor on his knees, tears streaming down his face. The force of his crying was ripping harsh, ugly sounds from his chest, and he’d probably need his inhaler soon but he couldn’t imagine going to the bedroom to get it. That wasn’t just his room – it was Tony’s too, and Steve’d just pretty much spit on their entire relationship. That room was off limits because of his own selfish stupidity.

He lost track of time as he wept, and didn’t even contemplate moving until he felt a tightness in his lungs that had nothing to do with the sorrow and regret ravaging him. But he couldn’t go to their bedroom – he didn’t deserve to. He had another inhaler and a couch in his studio, so he’d… he’d go there for the night and pray Tony would forgive him in the morning. Getting to his feet was a struggle, but he eventually managed and fumbled his way to the elevator.

The doors opened, but once he was inside JARVIS didn’t even give him a chance to speak. “Steven – Sir – Steve – _please_.” He’d never heard the AI so flustered or frantic, and another arrow of guilt hit him right in the heart. JARVIS would have seen all of that – Tony’s kid would’ve had to watch them fight, and would’ve watched Steve threaten to cheat. “Please reconsider. Sir has… he says that if you try to leave without calling a taxi service I should call one for you, as it’s late and unsafe-” More guilt, threatening to crush him because of _course_ Tony would still be looking out for his wellbeing. “-and I will, if I must, but please. Please do not leave Sir. He is most distraught, and I believe you are in distress as well. If you were to stay surely something could be worked out in the morning. This is your home, and Sir is very fond of you, and… I am as well, as much as I am capable. Please reconsider your actions. If you go out as you said you would, I do not believe Sir would be able to forgive you.”

By the time JARVIS was done, Steve was leaning back against the elevator wall, one hand over his mouth to cover a fresh round of sobs. God, he was a piece of shit, and an AI was begging him to stay and he’d _hurt_ Tony and JARVIS and fuck, but he didn’t know what to do about it.

“… shall I call you a taxi, Steve?” JARVIS was using his _name_ , which he hated doing, and he’d never, ever heard the AI’s electronic voice sound so _small_.

“N-n-no,” he managed to choke out after long minutes, already fighting for breath and sure an attack was imminent. “St-studio. Inhaler. Couch.” It was the best he could do just then, but it was enough for JARVIS. There was _relief_ in the AI’s voice when he said of course, but then the worry and flustered nature was back when he questioned if Steve needed assistance. He didn’t and conveyed that, then nodded a promise to notify the AI immediately if that changed. Then all was silence but his gasping, shaky breath, and Steve _hated_ it.

Once he got to the studio, he went right for his inhaler. It felt like it took hours to get enough breath back in his lungs… and it very well might have. Every time he started to calm down and get his breathing back under control, he’d remember the look on Tony’s face or the way his voice had cracked or the panic in JARVIS’ voice and he’d get set off again. Finally, however, the most violent storms of weeping had passed, and he could breathe.

Silent tears continued to drip down his cheeks, however. Steve cried the whole time he got the couch ready, and he kept right on crying until he fell into a fitful sleep.

He didn’t _really_ wake up, not all the way, when – about an hour before dawn – arms slid under him and picked him up off the couch. He sort of stirred, gathering a few impressions – warmth, Tony’s cologne, movement, the soft murmur of familiar voices – as he slowly slid towards complete unconsciousness again. Just before he did, he was settled in a large, comfortable bed. 

He distantly felt a pair of lips brush over his temple, and then a raw, pained voice murmured ‘happy one year babe’ into his ear. That was almost enough to pull him back to the surface… but he was so tired, so he let a wave of sleepiness drag him back under.

~.~.~

When he woke up, Steve was alone in bed and he had a pounding headache. What the hell? Was he sick? He remembered having a terrible dream…

As the realization that it hadn’t been a nightmare crashed over him, he curled up into a tight ball and wrapped his arms around himself. A gasp of physical pain escaped, and he was pretty sure he could feel his heart actually shattering into a million pieces, the remains stabbing him repeatedly. He’d hurt _Tony_ , hurt him so badly he wasn’t sure they could recover.

He’d been so stupid, grabbing hold of a plan and barreling forward without any real thought. He got that way sometimes and he knew it – pride, stubbornness and a certainty that he was _right_ could blind him to the truth of a situation or lead him to ignore other options. It’d happened before and the consequences were rarely pretty… but this was the first time his bullheadedness had really hurt someone he loved. This time he wasn’t the only one paying the Piper.

Tony was also paying the price for his short-sighted actions, and Steve felt like the lowest of the low.

While he wanted to hide in bed until he died – the bed Tony must have carried him to, which was another shot in the heart – Steve knew that wouldn’t be fair of him. He owed it to his boyfriend to face him, to take whatever punishment the man wanted to dish out. He owed Tony _at least_ that much, so he’d damn well do it.

He took a brief pit-stop to brush his teeth, because his mouth tasted and probably smelled like something had died in there. The face he saw in the mirror was wan and haggard, eyes bloodshot and puffy. He looked like shit, which was still a helluva lot better than he felt. Even though he didn’t deserve it, his own desperate need for just a little comfort drove him to Tony’s closet. He pulled on a too-big pair of Tony’s pajama pants over his boxers, then a ratty MIT sweatshirt that fit him just right on over his t-shirt. They smelled like home, because home was _Tony_ , and Steve drank in the comfort the scent offered even as he hated himself for doing it.

He didn’t deserve comfort, and he sure as shit didn’t deserve to be wearing Tony’s clothes.

Much to his surprise, when he slunk out of the bedroom and into the hall, he could smell and hear food cooking. His stomach clenched, because that had to be Tony and now that it was time to actually face the man Steve wasn’t sure he could do it. It took a couple minutes and several deep breaths, but eventually he forced himself forward, padding on quiet feet to the kitchen/dining room.

Sure enough, there was his (hopefully still) boyfriend, standing at the stove, still in the clothes he’d been wearing last night. Hell, he probably hadn’t slept at all, and Steve was absolute _scum_.

“Tony-” he started hesitantly, only to have the man interrupt without looking at him.

“Sit,” he ordered firmly, pointing to the table with his spatula. Their dinner plates had been cleared, as had the candles and the vase of roses that had been waiting there last night when Steve got home from grocery shopping. A memory was tugging at his mind, clues that he’d missed in his extreme tunnel vision starting to click together as he went to his seat. When he saw the flowers in the trash, he winced… and then he got it.

Shit.

He hadn’t thought about it because he’d been busy trying to get sex ‘over with’, but depending on how you counted… yesterday could have been their one year anniversary. He tended to think of the date they’d first kissed, but Tony didn’t _like_ that one. When Steve’d tried to celebrate it with him several months ago, Tony’d grumbled the whole time about having to share _their_ anniversary with the anniversary of him shutting down weapons development and manufacturing at SI. So that day on the calendar was out, as far as his boyfriend was concerned. Their first date (which they did not speak of) had been two months ago and they didn’t speak of it, so that was out… so yeah. That left the day they’d finally had ‘the talk’ and become officially exclusive.

No fucking _wonder_ Tony had lit up when Steve mentioned making a special dinner. He’d been dropping hints about the day, and Steve had seized on it without making the connection, turning it into something very, _very_ different. The roses made a lot more sense now, as did a few other things Tony’d said and the way he’d seemed concerned at dinner. God, he was an idiot – he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten about this possibility as their official anniversary. He wasn’t at all surprised that Tony hadn’t. He might not always remember how many days a month had or when ‘trivial shit’ like National Holidays happened, and maybe he needed a hell of a lot of prompting to remember when he had a board meeting or other SI function, but if the date was important? If it really, _truly_ meant something to him or someone he loved? Tony’s brain had that shit on lock down.

So while Steve’d been trying to drink himself into having enough courage to have sex for the first time… Tony’d thought they were celebrating the first year of their relationship.

 ** _Fuck_**.

He stayed meekly quiet as Tony finished up, because he was giving the genius total control here – he’d decide when they talked and how it was going to go down. Usually when the other man cooked he was all smiles and laughter and tender looks… but not that morning. He was clearly (rightfully) angry; he set things down with too much force, stirred too vigorously, and when he had to get into the fridge or the cupboards he yanked them open and slammed them shut. His whole body was tight with tension, and Steve ached to walk over and give him a massage because that had to be painful… but he didn’t. He didn’t get to touch Tony again until and unless he had the man’s permission.

When breakfast was done - _burnt_ for the first time Steve could remember – Tony thumped it down in front of him. Steve peeked up at him and had to battle back a concerned whimper because Tony looked _awful_ , even worse than he did. The man definitely hadn’t slept, and he’d probably cried at least as much as Steve had. Even his beard – Tony’s pride and joy – looked scruffy, like he hadn’t trimmed it up which he ALWAYS did, every morning that wasn’t a workshop day, and God he’d obviously gutted this man that he loved so much.

“Eat.” Again Steve obeyed without question or a word otherwise, because right now he’d do anything Tony asked of him. He’d dig out his heart with a rusty spoon if he thought it might make the genius smile again. The food wasn’t terrible despite being a little charred, but it was nowhere near being up to Tony’s usual standards, and that _scared_ him. For Tony, cooking and food meant love, so this… this was **not** a good sign.

“You didn’t go out last night.”

“I never actually meant to,” Steve told Tony’s back softly. The man’s shoulders were hiked up practically to his ears as he leaned forward against the counter where the coffee pot sat. “Tony… God, I would _never_.”

“Wasn’t what you said last night.”

“Last night I was… I was scared and hurt, mad about both, and a bit drunk. I wasn’t thinking when I said it, but I swear – as soon as I realized… Tony, I _love_ you. I’d never cheat on you.”

Tony didn’t relax – far from it – but just a little tension did seem to leave him. His shoulders settled back into their usual position, at least, and Steve had to be thankful for the little things right now. Silence, thick and uncomfortable, fell as Tony got himself a cup of coffee. He came to sit down, choosing the chair opposite Steve instead of the usual one beside him – that hurt, but Steve couldn’t be upset about it. Tony deserved all the space he felt he needed. For a long time, the genius stared into his coffee, an expression that was close to defeat on his face.

“Whether you meant to follow through with it or not,” Tony finally started, still refusing to meet his eyes. “That fucking _hurt_ Steve. Hollowed me out, actually. I think if you’d ripped my heart out and tossed it on the ground to stomp on, it probably would have been less painful than hearing… that.”

“I know, Tony. I’m… I’m so, **so** sorry.”

“You wanted to wait, last I knew, and I was fine with that. Just having you in my life, just _being with you_ was enough. For me anyway. I guess maybe it wasn’t for you.”

“It was. Sweetheart, it _is_. I just-”

“You talked about it like it would be a _chore_ , something to just get done so we could move on to more important or at least more fun things. Me, I always figured that when it happened it would be special. Maybe not perfect, because what is, but right for us and special because it was you and me. I would have waited for fucking ever for that Steve. I was following your lead, and I’d have waited forever. It’s been so _nice_ to do all the other stuff – kissing and holding hands and cuddling until we fall asleep… fuck. All the usual relationship stuff that happens before sex. I’ve never really had most of it before. It’s been amazing just to get to do them with _you_. I’ve been so happy, and… and maybe I got too lost in that other stuff to notice you weren’t as happy as I was. But I really thought you were, Steve, so this is coming out of nowhere to me. So I’d like a fucking explanation for last night, if you please.”

The utter lack of babbling and the way he only paused a few times meant he’d practiced this – probably with Pepper. He wouldn’t make JARVIS go over it with him, and Rhodey was out on maneuvers until the end of the month, so Tony must’ve practiced with Pepper. That meant Steve was pretty much a dead man – he hoped he had a chance to make things right with Tony before she killed him.

“I have been happy, Tony. Jesus Christ, I don’t think I’ve _ever_ been so happy. Last night…” he paused to collect his thoughts, then shook his head. “I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. I really, really _want_ to have sex-” his voice caught, but he forced back the tears and forged ahead, though he changed the words a little because Tony’d been right. “Make love to you. I think about it a lot, because I do love you, Tony, and I find everything about you insanely attractive. But then I’d think about how it could all go _wrong_ , and… first times have just never gone well for me Tony. I thought that maybe if we just got that ‘first time’ bit out of the way…” When the words hit him grimaced, shame and regret welling inside him. “Shit, I’m sorry Tony. I had blinders on because I thought I’d found the solution.”

“But I didn’t know it was a _problem_ that needed to be _solved_ ,” Tony told him, sounding frustrated. “Why didn’t you tell me? There are so many other ways we could have done this, Steve, if you wanted it but were that nervous. We could have eased you into it, worked our way up to the bigger stuff so that you didn’t panic. If I’d known you thought waiting was a problem, we could have figured this out together. Throwing yourself into the deep end and hoping you didn’t drown was _stupid_.”

“I thought… I thought that since you, uh, know how to swim-”

“Drop the metaphor, because if you can’t even talk about sex, we are never having it. Ever. Period. End of discussion.”

“Okay, okay. Sorry. You’ve had sex, and you seem to have liked it. So I thought that if I got things going, you’d… just sort of take care of the rest I guess. I figured that once I got you interested and you thought I was interested, you’d get us there.”

“And here’s where I have a _real_ problem, Steve. One bigger than you shooting off at the mouth when you were hurt and drunk, even though that really, really fucking hurt me. This is what I don’t know about, what I’m not sure I can get over. Because what you were suggesting last night and how you’re explaining it now… it feels too damn close to rape for me, and I cannot _believe_ you thought I would _do_ that to you.”

“Tony, that’s not-”

“If I’d gone for it last night – if I’d ignored all the red flags you were sending up and I’d fucked you like you thought I was going to, would you have enjoyed it?” Steve fought back the instinctive need to defend his decision, and gave the question the thought it deserved… and didn’t like the answer he arrived at.

“… no.”

“No. You’d have clenched your teeth and just done your best to get through it, and you would have hated every second of it, and holy fucking shit, Steve. Is that what you think I want from you? Sex no matter the cost?”

“No! No, God Tony. No. I just… I didn’t know how else to do this. I just figured once I got over the initial hurdle I wouldn’t be so scared, so I figured I’d bite the bullet-” He clamped his mouth shut, because his stomach started to flop around again, and Tony looked like he wanted to be sick. Hearing it all laid out like this, out loud and without his driving need to ‘get this done’ behind him, it all sounded insane and dangerous. He could hardly believe he’d latched on to this idea so completely, because it was crazy and incredibly unfair – cruel even – to both Tony and himself. 

“I’m sorry Tony. That’s… I know it’s not much, but it’s all I have. I am sorry I didn’t talk to you about this, and I’m sorry for pushing even after you used a safe word.” He was crying _again_ , and he hated that he could hear Tony sniffling too because he was probably crying and God he couldn’t believe he’d fucked up the best thing he’d ever had in his life so completely. “I’m sorry for saying…” he wanted to soften it, to make it something more palatable, but he owed Tony more than a weak, half-assed apology. “I’m sorry for saying I’d cheat on you if you didn’t give me what I thought I wanted, and I am so incredibly, unbelievably sorry for trying to make you do something to me that I was afraid of. It wasn’t fair of me, and I can’t ever apologize enough. And-” his throat tightened, clamping down on a sob that took him several moments to speak beyond. “And I’m so sorry for ruining our anniversary. Because it was, wasn’t it? Yesterday was the date you wanted to celebrate it on – the day we had our talk last year and became ‘us’. That was the anniversary you wanted, the one that was just ours.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed, voice rough and raw with emotion. “It was.” Steve finally managed to catch his gaze, and what he saw in those beautiful brown eyes put what was left of his heart through the blender.

“I… I know I don’t have any right, not any more, not until you say…. But I’d really, _really_ like to give you a hug now, if you think it’d be alright, because you look like you need one. Or I’ll call Pepper and get her here and get out of your way so she can be with you, or hell – Bucky’d come over if you need someone and don’t want me and can’t have Pepper because she can’t get away from SI.” Jesus, forget Pepper – Buck was gonna straight up murder him when he heard about this. “He gives really good hugs to his friends, and he likes you a lot.”

Tony gave a strangled sound that seemed like it might be half laugh and half sob, and Steve… just really didn’t know what to do, what he _could_ do that wouldn’t cause Tony more pain. So he waited, on pins and needles, while the genius turned his eyes back to his coffee and seemed to get lost in thought. An eternity of silence later, Tony sniffled and unwound one hand from his mug and reached out toward Steve. Hope, undeserved but desperately wanted and needed, unfurled in his heart as he reached back. Their hands brushed against each other, and then their fingers slotted together just as perfectly as they always had, like nothing between them had changed… but Steve knew it had. Maybe his fuck-up wasn’t enough to end them, but he’d… he’d broken something between them with his little stunt, put cracks into what had been a solid foundation of trust.

When Tony got scared, he hid and then imploded, hurting no one as much as himself.

When Steve got scared, he went on the offensive and destroyed the source of the feeling if he could, doing so much collateral damage on the way that it wasn’t even close to being funny.

This time… this time _Tony_ and their _relationship_ had been the collateral damage. He’d spend the rest of his goddamn life working to repair it, if the genius would let him. Holding hands was a start, at least, and he gave Tony’s a gentle squeeze before wiping at his eyes with his free hand. This was sort of more than he’d dared to really hope for, but it wasn’t the hug he’d been greedy enough to want, the hug he was pretty sure Tony desperately needed. He wouldn’t ask for it again, though – he’d told Tony what he wanted, and now Tony got to decide. Holding hands would be enough, if that was all the genius was ready for. He just wished there was someone else there to comfort his boyfriend, because Tony was so tactile, and he’d feel so much better if someone wrapped their arms around him and that someone didn’t have to be Steve, but there should be _someone_ -

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“If you don’t get over here in the next five seconds, babe, I swear to fucking Tesla I will have a breakdown of epic proportions.” Steve didn’t stop to fully process his wonder, at his delight that holding hands had been an _invitation_ , not the desired end result. He didn’t stop to thank God or his lucky stars, or take even a second to revel in happiness at hearing the word ‘babe’ fall from the man’s lips – he just fucking _moved_. When Tony started swearing to Tesla, he meant business and you ignored that at your own peril.

Steve was out of his chair and around the table in way less than five seconds; in the amount of time it took him to get there, Tony’d scooted his chair back, though he didn’t stand. That was okay – it was perfect, actually. Because with Tony sitting and him standing, he could slot himself between his boyfriend’s legs (in a comforting way, not anything remotely sexual) and they were at exactly the right heights for Tony to slide his arms around Steve’s waist in a tight, grasping motion. He put his arms around Tony’s shoulders and pulled him in just as tightly, tucking the man’s face into the crook of his neck. Tony was trembling against him, almost certainly crying – Steve was too, because it was a day for endless tears – hands clutching at that old MIT sweatshirt they passed between them convulsively. As soon as he felt that, Steve lifted one of his hands to cradle the back of Tony’s head, stroking his hair as he started to whisper apologies and promises and declarations of absolute devotion.

One hug couldn’t fix everything – it could hardly fix _any_ thing, and Steve knew that; it was only the start. A day spent in pajamas, cuddling quietly and watching old black and white films wouldn’t heal everything between them. Making Tony frozen waffles to have with their ice cream wouldn’t do it either, and fixing dinner later without comment when he heard the genius’ stomach rumble wasn’t the magical key to getting things back to normal.

It was going to take weeks – months – of work on his part and a lot of boundary setting from both of them to even get close. Nothing but time and Steve’s actions would take that hint of worry from Tony’s eyes, would make both of them stop giving a tiny flinch any time a kiss started to move beyond chaste and sweet. Going to bed together had been so easy, so natural before; now it felt slightly awkward and forced, but Steve would be _damned_ if he gave up that part of their relationship without Tony asking him to. It was only that first few seconds that was strained anyway. Once they were tangled up in each other, whispering and cuddling and reveling in still being a ‘them’, that awkwardness fell away.

It might take a very, _very_ long time before JARVIS stopped calling him ‘Mr. Rogers’ again, and maybe even longer before he would open doors or take Steve to a floor without being asked. He could live with that too though, because JARVIS had been just as freaked out and hurt as he and Tony had been. He’d do what he needed to do to win back the AI’s trust, even if that meant the occasional cold shower and minor appliance malfunction. It was all JARVIS could really do to express his displeasure, so as long as it didn’t become dangerous, Steve would let him have it.

He was just thankful that, while his attempt to avoid another disastrous first time had backfired in magnificent fashion, he still had Tony. They still had each other, and they were love, and they had all the time in the world to move beyond cuddling. They could afford to wait, because the rest of what they had was more than enough. 

Their ‘firsts’ didn’t have to define them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer Possible Trigger Warning Explanation
> 
> The long and short of it is that while Steve wants to have sex with Tony, he is very much not ready to actually have it. He tries to force himself, and while I didn't get too far into it on purpose, it's made pretty clear that he is not at all enjoying what is going on. Tony picks up on that pretty damn quick, and in the ensuing fallout admits that the way Steve handled things puts whatever sex they might have had if Tony hadn't stopped them uncomfortably close to rape territory. With Tony's own sexual history, that hits really close to home, so he's freaked out about that, Steve's freaked out about both the sex and that Tony won't have it with him, and JARVIS is freaked because his 'dads' are fighting.
> 
> Long story short, kiddos - know your own boundaries and respect them as much as you would your partner's, because otherwise things could end very, very badly. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluuuuufff. I promised it, and here some is. <3

The massive pile of blankets, pillows and cushions by one of the couches was the first thing that caught Tony’s eye when he stepped off the elevator. Steve watched as confusion set in, his brow furrowing and a frown settling on his lips. Then the man visibly shook it off and made a beeline for the coffee maker. His boyfriend could be so predictable, which meant Steve was ready to intercept him with a smile and a thermos full of coffee made just the way Tony liked it.

“Um… thanks? Jay said you wanted something?” Steve expected him to start right in on the coffee, so he was gratified when the man bent down and gave him a light kiss instead.

“Yeah. Pepper said I couldn’t take you on a vacation,” and had delivered the edict with a flinty expression in her eyes and a sneer that let him know he was very much not forgiven. “Not with the launch party so close and development starting on… something? She wouldn’t tell me.” Another change for the worse in their friendship, because usually she was happy to tell him about SI’s projects. “So I thought maybe we could at least carve out half a day for just us. JARVIS said that today would be the best day, and that you were at a stopping point. So… uh… can you? If you need to go back to work I completely understand, but, uh. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

God, he wanted Tony to say ‘yes’ so badly. Things between them had been… okay, for the last few weeks. Not great, not anymore, but things were getting a little better every day. Part of that, funnily enough, was because of their crazy schedules. With Steve needing to be in the studio to meet his deadlines and Tony having to move back and forth between his workshop and SI to keep everything running smoothly leading up to a product launch, they had time to cool off and then miss each other. It meant that time together was quality time by default without the pressure of constantly being in each other’s presence. But now he wanted a little bit of _extended_ time, where they could just focus on them without the outside world intruding. Since a real vacation was out of the question… this would be the next best thing.

As long as Tony said yes, anyway.

Maybe seeing some of that in his face, Tony’s expression went soft and he slid one hand in Steve’s hair to toy with the strands. “Sounds great babe. Your timing was perfect – I’ve hit a wall. I’m working on an old design of Howard’s – clean energy, top-secret. I’ll walk you through it tomorrow, if you’re interested. I know eco-friendly shit is important to you. Why do I have a thermos? I hope you don’t think we’re going camping. I don’t camp, and Pep’ll be mad if we sneak off for even that kind of trip if she didn’t approve it first.”

“Tony I would never, ever take you camping, don’t worry. It would drive you insane to not have tech for that long. The thermos is so you don’t spill your coffee while we’re building.”

“Building? What are we…” Understanding lit his eyes, and he whirled around to face that huge pile of materials that had been pilfered from around the Tower and ordered online by JARVIS when Steve couldn’t find enough. “Steve. Steve. Babe. I _need_ you to tell me we’re on the same page here. Please.”

“Well what’s your page say?”

“That we are about to build the best fucking pillow fort to ever exist.”

“Yeah, same page.” Tony let out a whoop of joy that sent a burst of affection, hot and bright, through Steve’s chest. Then the genius turned back to face him and wrapped both arms around his waist. He was hoisted up into the air and then Tony was spinning in joyful circles and proclaiming him the best boyfriend ever. Anyone else would have been treated to a few solid kicks and an earful; with Tony doing it he just laughed and accepted the kisses his boyfriend was raining down on his face.

Once that bit of silliness was done and the idiot genius checked to make sure the lid of his coffee was still secure, it was time to start. Tony set sparkling eyes back on their building materials, bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. “Roll up your sleeves babe. This is gonna be awesome.”

~.~.~

An hour and a half (and three thermoses of coffee) later, they had a pillow fort that Steve was pretty sure could withstand a nuclear blast. Tony had been exacting to a degree about the placement of everything and delighted in bossing Steve around to achieve his vision. At one point about forty-five minutes in, he’d gotten into an argument with JARVIS, one Steve didn’t have a prayer of following, about angles and weight distribution and structural integrity. That was when he took a brief break to put a plate of snacks together. When he came back, his boyfriend was bright-eyed with _new_ ideas that required they demolish about half of what they’d already built.

It was all incredibly fun, and one of the best starts to a date night they’d ever had.

Now that it was complete, they were tucked inside, wrapped in extra blankets and each other. They’d switched to a mug of hot chocolate that they were sharing between them. Steve kept hold of it most of the time because he always loved having a steaming mug in his hands. JARVIS had flipped on the AC to keep Tony from getting too hot, while Steve was perfectly comfortable temperature-wise… which he couldn’t help but feel a little smug about. For once his shitty circulation wasn’t a disadvantage, which was a nice change.

Mounted on one cushion wall was one of Tony’s tablets, because _of course_ they couldn’t just leave a hole that they could see the TV through. The look of pure horror on Tony’s face when he’d suggested doing just that had been worthy of snapping a picture of. After a bit of discussion they decided it was a Disney sort of day, and currently ‘Robin Hood’ was rolling.

“How is a chicken holding a racket?”

“I don’t know, Tony. How is that hat staying on the snake? That’s what I wanna know.”

“What if Maid Marion wasn’t a fox? Could they still end up together? I mean, all the couples they show are made up of the same animal, but what if a turtle fell in love with a… a bear or something?”

“That church mouse couple would probably damn them to hell in a fiery sermon.”

“Ha! That would have been a way more interesting story.”

“If you are not enjoying the film, Sirs,” JARVIS interrupted, sounding deeply disappointed in the both of them. “May I suggest you pick your own? You requested a Disney feature, and it is hardly my fault you were not more specific. I find the tale quite enjoyable myself. You may find it more to your liking if you actually _watched_ it.”

“Aww, Jay, don’t be mad! It’s a great movie, really. We’re just terrible movie-watchers. Mostly Steve.”

“Hey!” Playfully offended, Steve pinched Tony’s side and was rewarded with a squealing giggle. The man then tried to wriggle away, but he was having none of that. After setting the cocoa safely to one side, he wrapped both arms around Tony and held on tight, fingers tickling his sides. That prompted a brief bit of play wrestling, and at the end of it Steve found himself tucked securely between Tony’s legs, leaning back against his chest. By that point he honestly had no idea what was going on in the movie. It didn’t matter, not really, not in the slightest. No, what mattered was Tony’s arms around his waist and Tony’s breath ruffling his hair. What was important were the feelings of warmth and security, and the continued knowledge that they were okay.

Not great, maybe, but not terrible and that was more than he could have hoped for in the immediate aftermath of That Night.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for doing this with me. I know you’re really busy.”

“Never too busy for you babe. Unless Pepper says I am, because she’s terrifying and knows my schedule way better than me, but I don’t think she’d ever do that if you really needed me. She’d roll her eyes a lot, but she’d take over the board meeting or whatever.”

“I don’t know about that. She is really not fond of me anymore.”

“But _I_ love you, so she’d let me go. She’s just, uh, you know. Not gonna do it unless it’s an emergency.”

“Which is fair.” Tony’s arms tightened around him, and he felt the man tuck his face into the crook of his neck.

“Eventually she’ll get over it.”

“Maybe she shouldn’t.”

“Steeeeeeve. Don’t say that. Of course she should. We worked it out, so she can’t stay mad forever. Or she shouldn’t stay mad, anyway. Rhodey’s fine with you, and he’s way more protective than she is.”

“Yeah, but he’s only fine with me so things aren’t awkward between the two of you,” Steve pointed out, deciding once again not to mention the _very_ uncomfortable phone call he’d endured with the man. There wasn’t any shouting or explicit threats, but _holy hell_ was Rhodey intimidating. He wasn’t keen on being alone with the guy any time in the near future.

“Which is what Pepper should do!”

“Nah. She’s lookin’ out for ya Tony. It’s fine. I’m glad you got someone so firmly in your corner.”

Tony just grumbled into his neck; he was probably torn between being pleased with Pep’s obvious fondness of him and disliking her current stand-offishness with Steve. Smiling to himself, Steve reached snagged a cookie off the plate to eat. On hearing the crunch of it, Tony made a sound of interest and shifted so his chin was settled on Steve’s shoulder. “Gimme,” he demanded childishly.

“You got two hands, Tony,” Steve pointed out after taking another bite. “Get yer own.”

“My hands are busy!” He whined, giving Steve a squeeze to prove it. “Sharing is caring babe, so gimme.”

“You’re impossible.” And even though that was true, he still held the cookie up and let Tony take a bite… that ended up being over half of what was left. “Tony!” The way he was laughing definitely undermined the attempted scolding, but he didn’t really care.

“’S goo’,” Tony told him _through_ the cookie, blowing crumbs onto his neck, which made him flinch forward with a sound of disgust. “Di’ju make ‘em?” More crumbs, and now _he_ was the one trying to squirm away.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full! Ugh, now I got chunks-a crap all over my neck. That’s so gross Tony. And no. Buck’s roommate made ‘em for group I guess, ‘n there were some extra. He brought ‘em earlier.”

“You’re fine. Wait! Bucky-babe was here? And he didn’t come say hi? I’m hurt. Devastated. Heart broken. You call him right now and tell him I am no longer speaking to him. Come on. … I don’t see you reaching for your phone, Steve, and this is serious business. Do it!”

“He had an entrance interview at CUNY for the spring semester, sweetheart, and then a tour. He didn’t have time to say ‘hi’. I don’t think he even really came to drop these off. He was nervous and needed some reassuring. He’s gonna call later, so you can talk to ‘im then.”

“Call him now – I’ll leave a voicemail.”

“No, you dork. Jesus, I can still feel it. Did you get chocolate all down my neck?”

“No?”

“Tony.”

“Just a little, it’s fine. Watch the movie. How do you think they’re gonna kiss at the end? They’re _foxes_.”

“I don’t care. Get it _off_ Tony. It feels so gross. C’mon. Please?”

“You are such a crybaby. Hold on.” He thought Tony would go for a napkin, or maybe just wipe at his neck with one hand. So when he felt the warm damp of the flat of Tony’s _tongue_ run over his neck, he thought he could be forgiven for the high-pitched squeal he made. Then both he and Tony froze, the tip of that tongue still touching his skin.

It was meant to be playful and it _was_ … but it was also the first time anything more physical than cuddling and chaste kisses had happened between them since That Night. It was also far from unpleasant, and Steve was a little upset that it had stopped. But could he ask for more? Or would that be weird? Had Tony even thought before he’d done it? What was he thinking now? God, this was confusing and it _sucked_ that it was.

“Uh… sorry. That was… sorry. I just… the crumbs and the chocolate, you wanted them off, and we don’t have napkins in here which was definitely an oversight on our parts and our next pillow fort will have them so don’t worry about that. I was just trying to uh, do the thing for you. The removal of the chocolate I mean. Sorry.” Tony was panicking, and his hold on Steve was getting looser. He _hated_ when things got awkward like this, hated that it was _his fault_ …

“Well did you get it all?” Unlikely, as there’d been only a swipe and a half.

“Uhm… no.” Tony answered, having gone very still once more. “Do you… want me to try again? Or are you just asking for a napkin? I’ll go get a napkin, just-”

“That’d be kind of a waste, don’tcha think?” Maybe that would have been enough, before That Night. Now Steve was pretty sure Tony would need a very clear signal that he was on board here. “I mean… it was getting the mess off and it felt… nice. Really nice.” God, he could feel himself starting to blush, and he was sure Tony would see the red creeping up over the back of his neck. “So if you don’t, you know. Mind. I’d like it if you kept… but only if you want to.”

At first his only answer was silence. He became sure that he’d scared Tony off, that the man would flee, that maybe he wouldn’t even come to bed… And then he felt another, very hesitant, flick of Tony’s tongue over his flesh. The playful atmosphere had of course vanished, leaving an intensity that made Steve’s stomach flutter pleasantly. A soft gasp escaped his lips, followed by a moan that made him sink his teeth into his lower lip to keep it from happening again.

The next pass of Tony’s tongue was far less tentative, and Steve couldn’t help but melt back against him. His head lolled to the opposite side to rest on Tony’s shoulder, and there were some very embarrassing noises leaving his throat. It couldn’t have lasted longer than half a minute, but it felt like a wonderful eternity later that Tony gave one last lick before burying his face in the crook of Steve’s neck. For a long time they rested together like that, breathing in sync and processing what had happened.

He was prepared for a discussion, for a talk about it and what it meant and where it meant they were going, but he _really_ wasn’t happy about it. He didn’t want to do it just then, not in their little fort where it was only them, the occasional voice of JARVIS and a movie they weren’t really watching. A heavy talk had _not_ been in his plans for the night, and he didn’t want to pencil one in.

So when Tony didn’t speak, just carefully tipped the both of them over so they were laying down, he felt relief swamp him. The genius curled around him, hugging him tightly like he’d never let go with his face pressed to the back of Steve’s neck. Steve was absolutely fine with all of this, and draped one arm over Tony’s so he could link their fingers. All in all, it felt like they’d taken a step closer to what they’d been. And yeah, they’d have to talk about this, negotiate boundaries – something they’d been putting off in favor of just getting back to being okay – and all of that, but they didn’t have to do it just then.

They weren’t great, the way they had been a few weeks ago. There in the semi-dark of Tony’s amazing pillow fort though, they’d inched away from being merely ‘okay’. And maybe, just maybe, they could eventually get to something even better than ‘great’.

Maybe shooting for ‘terrific’ wasn’t asking too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the [Stony Trumps Hate](https://stonytrumpshate.tumblr.com/) Auction is getting ready to start if you wanna check that out on Tumblr - just some signal boosts would be awesome if'n you don't mind doing so. <3 My creator post thingy is [here](https://stonytrumpshate.tumblr.com/post/160831633015/tahlruil-2017), just in case. XD


End file.
